The End or a New Beginning?
by DementedKoloss
Summary: [One-Shot] Just Ash, brooding about his journeys, his relationship with his pokèmons, his mother and his achievements. First work of fiction. Rated: M just to be safe.


This is my first work of fiction. Since, English is not my first language; there might be some grammatical errors. . Constructive criticism is acceptable, as I am willing to learn and mature as a writer, which is one reason why I wrote this fiction. I would be thankful if you review this piece of work. :) [One-Shot]

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters.

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** The End or a New Beginning?**

He was indulged, into that blankness, the void where no one had gotten alive normal. And those who have are changed man. If you let the darkness besiege your conscience, either it will bring change to your thought process, or insanity will crave upon your judgment. Either way, it depends on the individual how he considers it, make it sense or nonsense. Everything happens for a reason, and his reason of incoming rapid thoughts were his failures.

Ash Ketchum, ever since puberty made an impact on him; questions crawled upon his consciousness, altering his naïve thoughts into much more complicated doubts. But, he is still too naïve to even notice changes around him. But change is inevitable, and chances are he will notice it; sooner or later.

It is half past one o'clock at night, as he was sitting beside the window staring intently at the wall before him; as if it is the most interesting thing in the world at the moment. His hands, sweaty and trembling for apparent no reason, or perhaps his mind is playing tricks again. He is over-thinking stuffs for some months now. And after his devastating defeat at Ventress Conference, he is reconsidering his journey as a Pokémon trainer. 5 years since he first started his journey to become a Pokémon Master, and within these years he could not even make it into finals, let alone be a champion.

His long-time friend and his first Pokémon slept sound fully beside him, breathing rapidly. Ash eyed the small rodent Pokémon, as if trying to understand what the rodent is doing.

'Perhaps the small guy is dreaming' the only possible explanation that came to his mind. He glanced around the dark room for a moment, and went back to bed. And stared at the ceiling and gave in to his thoughts once again. He was questioning his own abilities as a trainer, as a friend, as a son and as a human. All those decisions he had aimed and considered for his own growth as a person; was surrounded by doubts.

'Am I a good trainer?'

He had been travelling for many days, hell he had been travelling for years. But, what has he learned? Yes, he was an experienced trainer, far better than the guy who crushed him in the battle. And what went wrong? He could have easily beaten him, hell he could have destroyed him utterly. But why couldn't he? His Pikachu lost against an amateur trainer and his exhausted Pokémon. His strategies, his willingness to win were all drowned. All laid to rest.

Depression clouded his psyche when he kept on thinking, kept on agnizing his childhood dreams. He had travelled so many regions and battled so many trainers. He had seen and experienced things that none could ever imagine of. He is becoming a man, but has he grown to become a master? He couldn't employ his experience as a battler, perhaps his strategies were not good to begin with, or perhaps his choices of Pokémon were incorrect. All of his Pokémon were faithful to him, but was he faithful to them?

The realization collided with his mind, and his conscience was critically severed. He gazed at his old pal, fixating his eyes on him for a minute. The moonless night was quite unsettling for him, for his mind is telling him things he cannot even understand, it was too much for him. He got up from his bed and walked out of his room. He needed to calm himself, he was thinking too much.

'Damn, Ash you are over-thinking things. Maybe water will calm you.'

He went straight to the kitchen to have a glass of water. He gulped it down and exhaled the unwanted and unsettling breath from his body, in hopes to get rid of all the pessimism. And it worked; he slowly made his way to the front door, and heard someone stir and as his eyes followed suit only to find Mr. Mime snoring in his deep slumber. He smiled at the psychic humanoid Pokémon for a brief second, reminiscing how envious he used to be of him. His mother cared a lot for the Pokémon than him, even though she was being polite and believed it to be helpful, that does not made him feel any less good. He is still envious but not much in comparison to his former self. And then he realized; he was maturing, Ash Ketchum is maturing.

He clicked the door open and went outside only to take a seat in the stairs. The stars dominated the sky, the only source of light in this moonless night. It was only a moment that the darkness before him was clearing out, as his eyes adjusted to suit the view. He felt his ticking heartbeat in a rhythmic pattern, his pulse was calm and breath was serene. A gentle breeze calmed his endless pessimistic sentiments, feeling the nature's sound. Pallet – being a small town, was noticeably quiet at night, and at this time of the night when everyone's asleep is more silent than ever.

It was not the first time he was awake at this time of night. It began after he was back at Pallet from his Unova journey. When he over-heard some ladies gossiping about the boy named Ash – Delia's son – who was back from his journey but not being in the first place, or a runner-up at-least. It was not like they were not proud that a Pallet kid made into eighth place, but that was not enough to make them cheer his name or his mother's. It was the first time when pessimism crept slowly into his conscience, and he became a cynic of his own strategies, his decisions, his actions. He suffered paranoia – believing there's always someone de-motivating him behind his back, and it was none other than his own mind.

Not like his mother wasn't proud of her son, but he needed to win, more for her than himself. It was not enough for her and for Pallet. All those journey he went after the Indigo Conference - being constantly motivated, in order to be on top of the table - were shattered either in eighth place or fourth. It was simply not enough. Perhaps he was avaricious of being in the top, why not? He was just a simple trainer in a tournament, like every other person he had battled; all were doing the same thing as him. All of them were greedy for being a champion. He would not deny he was, and he would not deny he still is.

He had asked his mother whether she is proud of him, a stupid question for an obvious answer, she hugged him and said she is, and she would support him in every decision he makes till she is alive. It shattered him completely; of-course he did not leaked any negative emotion to her mind about the things revolving his mind at that time. He kept to himself, he kept those negative emotions to himself, in hopes he will soon get over it. He beamed her fake smile, in order to convince her that nothing is wrong with him, and he was successful. She didn't ask him any questions.

He never stayed with her for more than a week ever since the beginning of his journey - quite selfish of him - for he soon begins his journey to another region, to explore and win another tournament only to lose miserably at the end. Only this time he is staying with her for more than a week. Oh she had asked him whether if he will be travelling soon, but he denied, and replied he wants to rest for a month, then he will think about it later. He quickly imagined that moment when he told her that he will stay. She was extremely happy, and exultingly she made him all his favorite dishes and he ate to the point of vomition. He was glad she was happy. She has no idea about his emotions, and he was glad that he had not made her worried. At-least Mimey was there for her, he took care of her and the place when he was not around. Mimey had done more to her than he had ever done, and he wondered about his invidia for the friendly Pokémon.

And soon, he came to consider the relationship among his pokémons. Were they envious of Pikachu, just like he was of Mimey? He had spent considerably a lot more time with Pikachu than the others, as he dumps them at Oak's place whenever he visits Pallet after his travelling. He never took any of them to other regions other than Pikachu, sure he was his first ever Pokémon but that does not mean he had to carry him everywhere, even for once he had not left him with the others and had taken any other with him. Shouldn't they be having equality? Why shall he always take Pikachu? Even though all the others had helped him equally in one or more part of the journey? Why? Why? He has a plethora of Pokémons; all of them were good or better than the other, and also they were very helpful through thick-n-thin. And still, why did he only thought of Pikachu? Why this double standard?

"My! Goodness! Ash, what were you thinking all these days?" He thought out loud. His fingers of both hands ran through his hair, as he sunk his head down in uneasiness. All the unsettling feelings struck arduously once again, and he gave into it. He suddenly felt regretful, sorry for his mother for leaving her alone for most part of the year; and sorry for his faithful pokémons for not paying any attention throughout the year; sorry for Pikachu for not sharing his thoughts with his old friend; and sorry for all those friends he had made in his journeys whom he had forgot and had not called them to know about their doings. He felt remorse, he felt stupefied, and he felt like shit!

'Snap out of it Ketchum!' he yelled inwardly. His logical explanations for optimism and motivational consent were failing to snap him back to life. He was getting rived by his derisive opinions. He was too naÏve, and had been a nitwit to realize all of it after so long. He winced as he slapped himself and came to his senses. He exhaled the unwanted air out of his lungs, and felt a lot better now. He felt his pulsating heartbeat slowly diminishing within and he finally, was delighted.

He smiled, his ever-so-enigmatic smile, and it came from the heart. His melancholia was over. Even though his inner war continued, his smile never left his face. Now that he knew what it was, and he was grateful that his dismally delusions have reopened his mind. The thoughts he considered narrow eyed, is widened. He got up and walked inside the house, still smiling and strolled towards his room, still smiling. And, as he fell asleep, his smile never left his face. He got the answers to all the questions by himself, and it made him feel great. Like a man, he resolved his own doubts. He was maturing, Ash Ketchum is maturing.


End file.
